


Was She Impressed?

by longlostintentions



Series: Untold Ethnographic Archive of Galahd [2]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Casually mentioned, Crushes, Daemons, Friendship, Gen, Inter-Fic Crossover, Showing Off, Young Dumb Boys, babies being babies, emetophobia warning, towards the end
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-23
Updated: 2018-03-23
Packaged: 2019-04-06 20:40:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,606
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14065155
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/longlostintentions/pseuds/longlostintentions
Summary: Feelings are hard when you're a kid. They're even more difficult when you're also a big showboat in a world full of daemons.





	Was She Impressed?

**Author's Note:**

> Title and story are reference to my other fic "The Most Carefully Laid Plans" where I first came up with the idea.  
> I've tagged the emetophobia with a * to indicate where to stop reading should you want to avoid it.

      Nyx and Libertus are shin-deep in the river, languidly jabbing spears at passing fish. They weren't old enough for real spears, but they were warned if they were to become hunters they had to practice early and often. They pause when they hear a scuffling of rock on the bank behind them. They turn in sync, and see a girl looking a bit startled that she'd drawn their attention. In fact, Nyx knew this girl, he'd had his eye on her. She was only a year younger than himself, hair pulled back, ready to be shorn and beaded the day she turned twelve. As far as he was concerned, his extra year having earned him a rite of passage in braids and his first bead, meant he was already well on his way to becoming a man. Which probably meant he was supposed to talk to her, or something. Instead of saying something reasonable, like “Would you like to come fishing with us?”, he speaks in the stupid way young boys do.

“Why are you watching us?” he asks, eyeing her. The girl, Osra is her name, flusters and huffs, crossing her arms.

“I'm not!” she insists angrily. He stretches with his spear behind his head.

“Then why are you standing there?” he goads, stepping over the rocky sides of the river.

“You don't own the river, Ulric! I can stand here if I like,” she says, stubbornly planting her feet in the dirt. He shrugs.

“You probably don't even know how to fish, yet.”

She shrieks with indignation and picks up a few small pebbles, tossing them in his direction. They don't go far, but he dodges dramatically anyways, perhaps hoping she'll see how swift he is.

“I do, too!”

Nyx lets loose a playful grin and holds out his spear, walking back into the river.

“Then prove it.”

     Osra takes the bait, as she can't help doing at her tender age with any boy she wants to impress. She storms into the river and snatches the spear with such ferocity it makes Libertus back up a couple steps. They watch her, tensed and focused with her mouth drawn into a thin line as she stares into the water. She thrusts the spear into the water and misses a fish, Libertus takes a stab at it but it escapes him as well. She glares daggers at Nyx before he can say anything. It is a while before another fish comes by, and the sun is making them sleepy while they wait. When Osra makes another jab into the water, both boys jump. She emerges triumphant with a small fish on her spear, giving one last gasping wiggle before dying.

“I told you!” she says, detatching the fish before giving Nyx his spear back and stuffing the prize in her bag sitting on the bank. Nyx doesn't give her the praise she;s hoping for, but he notices.

“Come on, there's always more fish upriver,” he urges, waving them further along. Libertus looks up at the sky.

“I dunno if we'll make it back before dark, maybe we should--” he's interrupted by a look from Nyx that he knows well, begging him to go along with it. Except this time it's more desperate than usual. His eyes flicker back to Osra, then to the sky, then back to Nyx as he trudges forward.

“-- Probably make it quick,” he finishes. Nyx grins widely and gives him a friendly punch on the arm before traipsing upstream. Osra is about to protest that she never agreed to go with them, but they seem one-track minded. Anyways, she couldn't quit now.

     Upstream, the fish are finishing their migration into the caves inland for breeding and they are plentiful. The three trade off between the two spears, whooping when they score a fish (which is not often) or exclaiming at their near misses (more frequent). Nyx uses his free time to splash his companions. Libertus would kick water back in return. Osra would occasionally yell things like “That's cheating, Nyx” or “No fair!” all the while biting back the urge to smile. She doesn't hold out long before she's splashing back and, needing to upstage him somehow, pushes him down into the water. It backfires when his quick reflexes grab onto her arm and pull her down too. They skirt downstream a couple feet, incredibly glad the riverbed is sandy where they are, then manage to find their footing.

     As they chase the fish, they find themselves closer to the mouth of the cave, and further from home than they planned. They only notice the darkness has snuck up on them when Osra extracts herself from the river, shivering in the cool air. Nyx tries to put on a brave face.

“I guess we should go home.... If you're nervous,” he says. They don't get more than two steps before a noise both familiar and foreign reachest them. Something strange. Like walking through mud or wet clay. Accompanied by a foul smell that makes them want to stop breathing as they turn around to investigate. They don't need to look far, feet from where they stand a massive flan is coagulating quickly. They start to back up slowly, but as it slides effortlessly towards them they all let out a shout. Nyx and Libertus hold their spears aloft, while Osra grabs a handful of rocks. For a good thirty seconds it's a staring contest, until the daemon rears back for a heavy handed slap. Nyx instinctively does his best to deflect with the spear. Mostly the spear gets sucked into the gelatinous appendage and ripped out of his hand. When he lunges for it, his arm is encompassed, making him stumble forward and step in it as well. He can feel it slowly pulsating and absorbing him. Swallowing him. Libertus is there in an instant, grabbing a hold of his hand and trying to pull him out. The effect is much like quicksand. Nyx tries to get a foothold in the dirt but it's too slippery. The slime is already up to his stomach and now he's panicking. The monster makes it more difficult by spewing out toxic smelling sludge, which drips warmly onto Nyx and completely douses Libertus. To his credit, Libertus doesn't let go and in fact doubles his efforts. It's only when the creature slaps him away that his grip slips. He immediately slips further in and is struggling to keep his head out of the muck. It feels like swimming in place, simply exhausting. His limbs are burning from the struggle and every so often his head dips below the surface, on more than one occasion slipping the odorous filth into his mouth before he surfaces. He's close to giving up and his vision wavers before the light of lanterns beat back the darkness and make the flan gurgle wetly as it tries to get away. Someone drags him out by the collar and he finally lets himself rest as he's cradled into arms.

     Nyx regains consciousness as he's placed into a tub of warm water, where his mother begins to scrape the slime off him. Ordinarily he would object to her bathing him, but he's exhausted and could use a comfort right now. Even though her face is hard with worry and anger her touches are gentle.

“How could any son of mine become so careless?” she scolds.

“Sorry, Titi,” he says obediently. She narrows her eyes at him as she sets the sponge down and tugs him out of the bath, wrapping a towel around him and leaving clothes on the sink.

“You will be,” she warns. Nyx is still too tired to be afraid. Hearing his mother scold him is almost a blessing after thinking he was going to suffocate to death. Thinking back to the event makes him look around in a panic.

“Where's Libertus?” he demands.

“Never you mind him. He's at home, probably getting a bath of his own and a few words to boot.”

Nyx tugs at her arm.

“It wasn't his fault! He wanted to come back. I made them go look for fish,” he insists. His mother softens a little at her son's earnest pleas.

“Get dressed and go see your Didi,” she says and leaves the bathroom. He dresses, deliberately taking as long as he thinks he can get away with, but eventually he has to drag himself into the kitchen where his father is.

“Nyx, do you remember what is at the heart of every good hunter?” he asks. Nyx doesn't have to wrack his brain.

“Strength.”

“What kind of strength?” his father persists. When he doesn't get an answer he turns to face his son.

“Not physical strength. The strength to make good decisions even if it hurts our pride.”

Nyx squirms on the spot. He expects more, but the talk is over. *****

Instead his father is holding out a cup.

“Drink this,” he orders. Nyx does it without argument. Before he can ask his father what the bucket is for he feels his insides in turmoil and heaves everything he's eaten into it. There's only a minute amount of purplish-black ichor in the mix and his father seems relieved. He takes out a new cup and Nyx eyes it distrustfully until he fills it with tap water for him. When he's finished, his father gathers up his face in his hands, forcing him to look at him.

“I will not lose my only son to the Scourge,” he says with determination. He presses a kiss to his forehead before swatting him off to bed.

 


End file.
